


1. “i’m trying”

by spjderloki



Series: five times peter cried and one time he didn’t [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange parenting Peter Parker | Supremefamily | Strange Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 01:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16209596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spjderloki/pseuds/spjderloki
Summary: peter comes back after a long patrol and his dad isn’t in the best mood ever.





	1. “i’m trying”

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: mentions of anxiety.
> 
> this story is placed after the events of infinity war, where peter is back from the dusted and is /trying/ to live a normal life as a friendly-neighborhood spider-man.
> 
> enjoy <3

Stephen and Tony were a happy couple, clearly not a cheesy one, but a very loving one. Of course, being two of the most stubborn men alive, they’d argue on the daily, but it was more of a sport than it was a fight. They never yelled at each other, and they never, ever yelled at Peter.

Except for that day, when Tony was too tired and annoyed after a long meeting with the government, and Peter had developed the ability not only to notice someone’s mood no matter how hard they tried to hide it but also to try to make things better — and blame himself if it all got worse.

Around three a.m., after watching a few chapters of their favorite TV show, Stephen kissed his husband goodnight and asked him to wait for Peter to come back before he went to bed. The teenager had been patrolling for a while now, and he should’ve been back any minute then. Nonetheless, Peter didn’t come back until four a.m., completely exhausted and most likely injured. Tony turned off the TV with an exasperated sigh when J.A.R.V.I.S. told him the boy had entered the facility.

As the boy walked into the compound and took his suit off almost immediately, feeling the relief of his skin being freed from the tight latex, he released a long sigh. Assuming that everyone was asleep, he took off his mask and turned around quietly, jumping when he spotted his dad sitting on the couch with a serious look on his face. “Hey, Dad,” Peter said. “Why are you still awake? Are you okay?”

“You tell me,” Tony emotionlessly replied and Peter frowned. It wasn’t the first time the 16-year-old had come back that late from a patrol and it’d never bothered his dad before.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s fucking four in the morning, Peter. Where have you been?” Peter took a step back, taken off guard. He wasn’t used to being treated with that tone, especially coming from his father.

“Uh, patrolling? Dad, I don’t understand... I thought you know I was—”

“Ah, patrolling, right. Those stupid patrols. To be honest, you shouldn’t even be doing that.”

“What? Why? What do you mean?”

“You’re too young, Peter. Too immature. Just because you have a few superpowers you think you’re saving the world, don’t you? But you’re not, and you put yourself in danger, and—” As Tony raised his voice a little bit more, Peter took another step back, eyes already watered. The adult immediately stopped as he noticed that. He looked at his son, shivering like he’s about to break, and regretted it all. They never _ever_ yell at Peter. It wasn’t his fault, he knew that. But now Peter didn’t. “Peter, I—”

”I don’t— I just— I’m sorry,” the teenager mumbled before running away and into his room in a shaky tone that Tony recognized well. _Anxiety’s an old family friend_ , he thought.

Peter took off his now hanging suit and put on a random shirt, feeling his whole body tremble, and he felt _stupid_. He had injuries all over his upper body and face and he  knew he’d been lucky to escape a stabbing knife. Still, no matter how much his regenerative powers tried to cover up the damage, anxiety had arrived like the weight of an elephant to sit on his chest and throat, and that was a pain no powers had helped him with, ever.

He covered sat in his bed and closed his eyes, trying to think of any of his breathing exercises. He wasn’t that much of a crier, but being yelled at like that by the people he loves and trusts made Peter go back to certain times when he _didn’t_ have them — those people, or anyone at all.

Tony walked in a split minute later, holding a first-aid kit. With a worried expression printed all over his face, he sat on the border of the bed and sighed. Peter looked at anything but him — he was either embarrassed or angry, he didn’t know.

”Did you do the exercises?” He asked, quietly. Peter nodded slowly, with too many emotions on his tired eyes. “I’m so sorry, Pete—” he started talking but once again, he was interrupted.

“I’m trying, okay? I know I’m not— I’m not— I can’t save them all but I just—” Tony opened his arms and surrounded him in a hug, trying his best not to touch any of the fresh wounds. Knowing better than anyone how anxiety could make you feel like you’re the worst person in the world, he was hurt, for he never meant and never would want Peter to feel like that about himself. Carefully, he stroked his hair as Peter wiped his tears. He took an antiseptic wipe and lifted his shirt to clean his fight wounds as he spoke.

“I know you’re trying, kid,” he said. “I didn’t mean to say that. I had a really long day and I was worried about you, but I shouldn’t have taken it all on you.”

Peter hid his face in his hands as he wiped off the last of his tears. Just like his dad, he was too tired. That patrol had taken his entire energy away from him — which is saying a lot, when you talk about Peter. He _had_ to work on his running-away-from-knives skills as soon as possible.

“I’m... really proud of you, you know? Of the person you’re becoming everyday. I know you’re trying, and I _really_ don’t wanna be like my dad, Pete. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t believe in you. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that,” Tony’s voice was comforting and, for some reason, it made Peter cry a little bit more. His parents had taught him as a little kid that it was okay to cry whenever he felt like it but even then, Peter was never much of a crier, so it was pretty new, seeing him like that.

“I’m sorry. This is— it’s stupid.”

Tony shook his head and ran a hand through his son’s hair, making it look even messier. “It’s okay to cry,” he answered, “you know. The toxins you release... Something like that. Your dad’s the expert” Peter let out a weak laugh. “But I think you should call it a day and get some rest, Spider-ling.”

Peter nodded slowly, still trembling a little, as his dad finished disinfecting his battle wounds and placed him into bed, covering him with a blanket.

“Dad?” Peter asked before Tony had left the room, making him turn around. “Can you— uh, can you stay for a while?”

”Scared of the dark?” Tony joked, softly, as he turned around.

”Scared of going away,” Peter replied in almost a whisper.

Tony's heart took a turn right there and then. “Of course, kid,” he nodded softly and Peter moved a little so his dad would have space in his bed. He lay down next to him and Peter rested his head on his chest, slowly falling asleep to the beat of Tony's heart.

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so! this is an idea that has been wondering on the back of my head for quite a while now. it’s gonna be a six-part series, and i’ll hopefully update it in no time.  
> as always, if you liked this, feel free to leave kudos, a comment and/or to follow me on twitter! (@avastrk)
> 
> — editing this after endgame was one of the hardest tasks of my life and i am HURT.


End file.
